The Haunting
by crayonboxromance
Summary: There's someone haunting the Avengers' every move, stalking them from the shadows and the Hawk is the one to find them.
1. An Introduction to Curiosity

She watched. Well, not watched. Observed was more the word. In normal clothes, sweatpants and vest stop, she would casually roam the halls observing things. Her particular skill was going unnoticed. She could become practically invisible. Not in a superpower type of way but in a 'used to it' kind of thing. It had been the thing that had brought her to SHIELD's attention. And so they used it to deploy her within the system. If there were people that needed investigating she would observe them. She would report to many people and by report she meant writing one and leaving it near them.

During the time leading up to Loki's attack she had observed Dr. Banner. She'd observed Loki himself. She'd placed Thor under her analytical eye of her own volition, being Loki's brother and defender. Every one of the members of the Avengers Initiative had been placed under her watchful gaze. Every one, that is, apart from the Hawk. Ever since he had gotten his mind back Black Widow had carefully attended his every move. Even three months down the line and she still was by his side. On the insistence of Fury, who needed an impartial report, she now placed all of her effort in to stalking the Hawk. Stalking? _Researching_. She'd been very careful. Her job required stamina, holding one position for a long time, crawling through small places, a certain degree of flexibility. And above all, complete and utter silence. And if she said so herself she was damn good at her job. So imagine her surprise when she heard an amused,

"Agent."

She froze where she was poised, hidden high near his next, balancing mostly on her arms. She turned her head, peeking at him from behind her curly brown hair. Of course. He was _Hawkeye_. He saw better from a distance and that is where she had kept herself. So instead of expressing her surprise, she merely righted herself silently and sat cross-legged, waiting for him to speak again.

"At least you're subtler than Nat." He mused, just as poised as she was; ready to catch her if she bolted or tried to attack. Since she wasn't trained to kill or fight the first one was the only option, "your name?"

Why did he need her name? She was the Watcher. That wasn't her official title but in her head it was. Besides, only a treasured few knew her name outside of her family. They were the few friends on this damn Helicarrier that she trusted. Couldn't wait until they had fully rebuilt the base though. To be back on the ground. So instead of replying she eyed him uneasily.

"I think I should know who's been stalking me."

"Researching."

"What?" He blinked at her quickly, unsure why she had rushed to say that so quickly.

"I don't stalk. I research." Her voice was quiet and cautious. Clearly she wasn't used to being caught. Clint didn't question why he was being 'researched' and thought it best just to keep quiet about it. His conscience was still bruised and a mess from three months ago. Sometimes he would sit and stare at the area where Coulson had died, going over and over in his head what he could've done. Something. Anything? Could he have done _anything_? His mind wasn't his. That was his only comfort.

There had been quiet for a good few minutes between him and his unassuming-looking companion as he'd delved in to his own thoughts. Clint took the time to drag his eyes over her, taking all of her in. Obviously a naturally quiet woman, her posture was stiff but relaxed at the same time. Clearly as used to staying in one place for a long period of time as he and Nat were. Grey eyes were bright though and cautious. They left nothing to chance. So she was a spy. However her lean body, what he could see through the inconspicuous clothing anyway, announced that she wasn't an international spy. None of the muscles acquired from SHIELD training were visible. She was just lean and wiry all over. Oddly enough she was bare foot. Which meant she was internal affairs and not a threat. Just a reporter. He'd heard of her – the Ghost everyone called her. She'd taken out many a rogue before they had the chance to abandon the base or the Helicarrier altogether. Was he a-

"Don't worry Agent Barton. I was only called to observe you three months ago. As I was unable to complete my report due to... complications..."

_Read: Natasha._

"However I believe that my report is almost complete." She continued obviously unaware of his mental interruption. They both tensed up again immediately when she stopped speaking. _Almost_. She'd been following him for three months. What else was there?

The report was actually complete. It had been filed three weeks ago. She'd no reason to follow him at all. But somehow she just couldn't help herself. There was something about Agent Clint Barton that her eyes found fascinating. And for someone whose job was to watch everyone and know everything, fascinating was hard to come by. She didn't know what it was though. Probably the way he made her more alert by being constantly on edge himself. There were times when she thought his blue eyes might have spotted her. A sort of warped joy would grow in her chest when that happened. _Finally_ someone would notice her. Of course she knew that she made herself unnoticeable but over the years the feeling of being invisible crept up on her. Until it drew her into herself, convincing her that she was. Only those she chose and her family could see her.

"Well alright than Ghost-"

"Ghost?"

"That's what I call you." A curious blush that stole over her face. It wasn't a nickname but a code name but it just sounded kind of personal dropping casually from his lips like that, "you can follow me as long as you like," he knew he wasn't in any danger, "but now I'll know when you walk in to room. Got my eye on you."

Woosh. Her entire face was aflame when he lowered himself down to his nest smirking at her reaction.

Let the games begin.


	2. The Game is On

_Well that was wholly unexpected! Thrilled to see people like this story.  
Puts on the pressure to keep it good ;)  
Massive thanks to the reviewers!_

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_Also, many thanks to the story alerters and favouriters!  
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_I hope this chapter lives up to the response :D  
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* * *

Ghost was winning two to none. When the first point was won Clint hadn't even known a game was afoot. Not until a slender finger traced the number one down his spine when he was concentrating on something else. Instantly he'd turned to see half a body disappear in to the gathering crowd of new SHIELD agents all clamouring to see the 'Avengers' training. He couldn't understand why, it was only him, Nat and Captain America after all. The point was wholly unfair anyway. He didn't even know they were playing! "It doesn't count!" He had yelled after her playfully, much to the confusion of everyone around him. It may have been his imagination but he could've sworn that he'd hear a laugh.

It must've been his imagination though as, unless he truly lived up to his name had birdlike hearing, Ghost had only let out a small chuckle and smiled softly. Didn't count my arse. It had been the point to set the match. Barton was just a sore loser. With a triumphant smirk, she snuck back off down the hall, towards Fury where she knew her new assignment was coming from.

The second point was won about two days after that when she had almost invaded his nest. He'd just come back from Ohio on an assignment, of all places. Why evil would choose to lurk in _Ohio_ was beyond him but who was he to ask questions. He'd lain back, settling back in to the place he felt comfiest and closed his eyes for a brief moment. A small two was drawn on to his forehead.

"That would be one!" Barton muttered without opening his eyes, hardly surprised that she had caught him in his downtime. In fact, he had hoped she would. Barton had been trying since they'd first met to find some information on this internal spy but with only the code name of Ghost to go on nothing was forthcoming. Ghost wasn't even a real code name after all. This was his chance to find out what was happening, direct it to a place that he wanted it to go.

"Two." Was the only response he received, the voice dangerously close to his ear. Still he didn't open his eyes. Didn't have to. He knew exactly where she was and when she'd come in to the room, like he'd told her in their first conversation. True, Clint was an assassin but he'd been trained by the best and was still hyperaware even on his downtime. Ghost was nearer to him than before obviously, having learnt her lesson about keeping a distance, but she was still hovering in the rafters somewhere, "number one set the game."

"We're playing a game that I don't know the rules of. I think we should discuss this." He kept his eyes closed and his ears trained. If she made any move he was sure he would hear it. Hearing _how_ she moved would make it easier to catch her out as the game progressed, "come on dow-"

"I am here."

Clint's eyes shot open to find her sitting next to him, cross-legged as usual and patiently waiting for him as if she had been waiting there a while. He blinked numerous times. All hail underestimation – keeping him on his toes and surprising him in a world where nothing should anymore, "yes you are." There was a tiny hint of admiration in his quiet tone. Ghost lowered her eyes for a second as if slightly embarrassed but then brought them back to him like nothing had crossed her features at all, "rule number one. This is a game where we surprise each other, right? First to five wins." Might as well do all the talking since he mostly got solemn monosyllables from her anyway, "starting from tomorrow morning of course." Otherwise this game would already be over and Barton would definitely be nursing a damaged ego.

"The prize?" Well there was something he hadn't thought of and it showed, splayed across his face like a beacon. It was enough for Ghost to snicker at and Clint couldn't help but feel a little bubble of pride in the fact that it was him who'd put it here. Contemplative, cautious and curious – these were the only emotions he had seen cross her face apart from a delightful blush on the one time they'd spoken. "We are a part of an intelligence agency Agent. We shall play for information. The winner is allowed one question on any topic."

"_Any_ topic?" That certainly gave a lot of leeway but he knew he only wanted to know one thing from her. To many others it was a small thing but to her, to her it would probably mean something so much more. And he desperately wanted to know what. A terse nod answered his question so he posed another, "Shall we ask the question in advance? It may require some preparation."

In advance? Ghost furrowed her brows in confusion. Where would the fun in that be? Unless of course, he required specific information. Not that it would matter of course as she would win and she knew exactly what information she required for her next assignment. Not confident in many things, like socialising, her confidence lay in how well she did her job. Word was that Stark was trying to create a better hacking system to hack in to SHIELD's mainframe. Finally she nodded curtly.

"I would ask for a way for bypassing Stark's security to get in to the tower." Something told her that working so closely with SHIELD made Stark extra cautious and Ghost figured her usual sneak in and nose around wouldn't quite fly. Besides, this was her first job outside of base or the Helicarrier and she did _not_ want to disappoint Fury.

"I can get you in." Clint batted that away quickly, not even bothering to ask why. Stark had probably messed with Fury again anyway. He lived there, should be a piece of cake. For a moment Ghost's grey eyes narrowed at him before flitting to the left as if remembering some information. Then an understanding nod and an expectant gaze. It was fascinating to watch her process as if it were her eyes doing all of her thinking.

"What is your question Agent?"

"What is your name?"

Ghost visibly blanched in surprise. Had the game already been afoot Clint would be one point up already. Suddenly she twisted in to an upright position and silently walked away. It was almost preternatural the way she did that. Completely out of view she brought her hands to her quickly heating face. How did someone simply asking for her name make her react as violently as a schoolgirl?

This was bad. Very, very bad.


	3. A Point is Won

_Holy crap balls you guys! I almost died when I saw my e-mails!  
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* * *

_She had brown hair and grey eyes._

_She was II - internal intelligence._

_She liked to play games and was good at them._

This was pretty much all Agent Clint Barton knew about the elusive Ghost. Oh wait – add:

_She didn't like being beaten at her own games._

That's right. He had won the first point to the surprise of everyone involved. Right now that consisted of Tasha, Fury, himself and Ghost.

Fury had been informed by a little post-it note that Ghost had gone about trying to get in to Stark's tower by utilising the service of Hawkeye. When Fury inquired how she'd planned on doing this, surprised that the two had ever even seen each other despite her being his glorified stalker for a while, another post-it note had popped up. 'Through a game'. And then Fury had demanded her presence. He didn't usually like to bring her to talk to him as he understood that Ghost was pretty introverted. It wasn't that she was shy – talking voluntarily to Hawkeye was proof enough – but she preferred her own company most of the time and relished the fact that she could see _everything_. It made her completely irreplaceable within SHIELD as it also meant she would never get on anyone else's radar and, as such, would never betray them. Once Ghost had informed him of the game, proved it was harmless and slipped away again to play it, Fury and Hill immediately placed bets. Not professional of course but Fury had always been a betting man and this seemed to easy a bet. Except now Hawkeye had lost him ten bucks.

Tasha had been told when she and Hawkeye were eating in the giant mess hall on the Helicarrier. It wasn't often they ate there, preferring to be away from the stares of other recruits. Being spies and assassins had instilled in them an acute discomfort at being openly noticed so much. Maybe he and Ghost weren't so different after all, Barton had mused, which instantly brought said woman to the forefront of his mind, "Nat, do you know of the ghost?" He'd tried to mutter in a vaguely disinterested tone but Tasha, knowing him far too well, had caught it instantly.

"She's II. She was our tail for the first few weeks after the Tesseract," that was what that whole time period was called now, "only stayed around for a while though. Seems we all passed. Why?" There was a hidden smirk behind her coffee mug.

"You knew?"

"I'm a _spy_ Clint. Of course I knew. Why do you ask?"

"Only a few weeks? She's only completed mine a week ago."

Lies. It was about a month ago now. As someone very close to Fury Tasha knew everything that was happening internally, if Fury deemed it okay to know of course. This was getting more and more intriguing, "How do you know? Why do you ask?"

"We're playing a game..."

Widow was instantly in on the bets with Hill and Fury, promptly gaining twenty bucks – a ten from each. It hadn't been her choice. There always had to be opposing bets and betting on Clint had fallen to her. But for this round she had a smug face.

There had been a base-wide dinner. Every single person had to be in the Mess and the food was going to be something special apparently. After living on Mess food however _McDonalds_ would be something special. It was the one time of the year that everyone was together at the same time, around Christmas time. Naturally it wasn't on the Christmas date – SHIELD trying to stress that they were non-denominational. Many people were off around this time anyway, spending time with their families and all, so not many people were in attendance. This time everyone was particularly excited this time around because it was the first time in the Helicarrier and this time the _Avengers_ would be there. Iron Man, Captain America, Bruce Banner, Black Widow and Hawkeye all together again for the viewing pleasure of the SHIELD agents. Thor, thankfully, would be absent. Poor Thor was like a doctor, you loved him whilst he was around but never wanted to see him again as it meant something was usually threatening the planet.

Neither Fury nor Tasha was surprised to see Barton walking on eggshells. This would be the perfect time for Ghost to strike whichever way she picked. Maybe a finger down his spine again, that gave him shivers of a slightly disconcerting nature. Or maybe something slightly _more _surprising considering he was surrounded by his peers. Clint couldn't relax at all. His head swivelled this way and that way, trying to locate her, even going so far as to peer up in the rafters. Did she take the day off? Was their one day of relaxation aboard the Helicarrier the perfect time to find internal threats? Or did other II take over this day? It was at that point Clint knew that one question would not be enough. Never before did he ask so many questions. Usually he was given a mission, he carried it out. Sometimes he killed, sometimes he didn't. He brought targets in, he took targets out. But he did not ask questions. If she insisted on playing games for information Clint foresaw many games in their future. _Their_.

A smirk graced his face at that use of the third-person personal pronoun. Another more focussed glance around the room quickly revealed Ghost reading a book but occasionally joining in the conversation with the women around her. Then she laughed. Clint's eyebrows shot up in total surprise. Fury and Hill would be rubbing their hands together gleefully if they were wont to show any emotion but instead merely released small smiles.

"It doesn't count. She has to see it."

Without any other comments he stood quietly although his silence was not needed. The rowdiness from the crowd disguised any noise he would make. As he made his way over to the table, he placed one finger to his lip and her companions quickly busied themselves with acting normal. Ghost was so relaxed however, thoroughly enjoying the fact that her friends would allow her to not only ignore them but join in whenever she wanted, that she missed their sudden act. In fact so engrossed in her relaxation was she that she didn't notice Clint's arrival until he whispered next to her ear the next line of the play she was reading.

"Well you are a rare parrot-teacher." The reaction was instantaneous. She jumped about a foot in the air and dropped her book in surprise. The look of glorious surprise was made all the sweeter for the winning of the first point. Narrowing her eyes in real disappointment (although his chest swelled when he noted the clear begruding admiration) Ghost responded with,

"A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours." Possibly a sore loser.

A bird of her tongue? He was sure he could find an innuendo in there somewhere. The next line was recited by heart, "I would my horse had the speed of your tongue and so good a continuer. But keep your way, in God's name. I have done."

Another sweet, sweet look of surprise. Surely that would be two points? Nah – he would be a gentleman about it. He supposed it could be considered a continuation of the first.

"You always end in a jade's trick. I know you of old... You know Shakespeare?"

"I know many things. I also know that I won the first point." And as abruptly as he arrived Clint took his leave, leaving poor Ghost to the curious poking of her practically giddy friends.

_She likes Shakespeare._

_A sore loser.  
_

The list was growing.

* * *

_The Shakespeare quotes are from **Much Ado About Nothing, Act 1, Scene 1.**  
_


	4. The List is Growing

_Squee! That is all! Everyone just keeps getting more and more wonderful._

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_You're all so awesome! Hope you like this next instalment!_

* * *

The game had come to a draw with a small but stunning win from Ghost. However now they were at an impasse that neither of them created and hovered uncertainly around each other, wondering where to go next.

Fury had decided that the game was moving too slow for him and Stark's tower needed to be infiltrated. SHIELD had a crack team working day and night to hide all of the information Stark was searching for but the billionaire genius was always one step ahead of them. Constantly adjusting his techniques and knowing so much more than the others made Stark a very tricky one to catch. This is why he needed someone in the tower that Stark had never seen before, a good actress, a master of stealth and a keen observer. And someone who could knock people unconscious without a sound. Ghost would probably be one of SHIELD's best assassins but she _would_ not kill. Instead she had opted to merely learn how to knock people out and that was as far as she would go. She'd only ever done it once when threatened by a rogue with a grudge. So Fury had issued the order for her to win the next point and utilise Barton as fast as possible. Not ten minutes had passed when Clint, relaxing in his nest, back from another small mission suddenly felt a lean, lithe body press against his side and a whisper in his ear,

"I need you." With a bolt he sat up right, not recognising the voice, only to glance down to see Ghost shaking in silent laughter. She raised a hand a traced a small one down his bare arm. _One all_, "but in all seriousness I need to get in to Iron Man's tower _now_. I am willing to end the game if you wish it."

"No." He cried suddenly, having too much fun to quit now.

"Then do you want my name in exchange?" Suddenly there was a fearful tone in her voice. Had he not been aware of her hesitancy to give up her name he wouldn't have caught it.

"No that has to be won. I'll think of something though. What do you need from me first?"

"Your bedroom in Stark Tower."

* * *

Two blocks away from Stark Tower Clint draped a casual arm around Ghost's shoulder. For a moment she stiffened but immediately relaxed as soon as she realised that his arm would not go further down. Their ruse was that Ghost was a girl Clint was trying to impress by showing her around before they would slip quietly in to his room where there was an entrance to the ventilation system not covered by a security camera. Being basically run on computers the whole tower was heavily ventilated for no overheating. As soon as they reached the main doors Ghost gasped like an impressed, giddy schoolgirl, showing the ruse was on. She wrapped ecstatic arms around Clint's waist and he guided her in.

"And this is Tony Stark. Tony, this is India." Clint announced her fake name after 'touring' the tower and whispering pointers for her job in to her ear. If the close proximity annoyed her beyond the initial shoulder arm than it didn't show at all. In fact she was the epitome of the impressed, sultry woman.

"I'm a huge fan Mr Stark." She drawled in a husky voice holding out her hand. Tony shook it with a voracious smirk towards Clint who merely raised his eyebrows suggestively, "Clint's been telling me all about the arrows you've made him." The hand that had just shaken Tony's rested on Clint's stomach which she couldn't help appreciating through the shirt he was wearing.

"Can never get him to stop talking about his equipment." Tony retorted, slapped Clint on the arm and swaggered from the room, shadowed by Ghost's throaty chuckle, "pleasure to meet you India!" was his parting shot.

"Now to the bedroom." Ghost was suddenly all business again and a good thing too because if she'd said that sentence in her 'India' voice he'd suddenly have a very hard time concentrating.

* * *

With a small huff of air Ghost raised herself up to the ceiling happy to have this job almost over and done with. Well that was a lie. Most of her wanted to keep this job going. She enjoyed clinging to Clint's side. It was fun and it had been a very long time since she'd had _that_ sort of attention on her. Agent Clint Barton was a smooth talker, everyone knew that. Had there not been that intense attachment to Romanoff, most women and some men would have approached him long ago. In fact, when Ghost had first been given her assignment Juan, another II agent with an even greater skill set than she (no one knew he existed at all), had begged her to swap with him. What Juan would've given to have Barton and the other Avengers under his steady eye had been impressive. But Ghost had refused. No way was she giving up on the chance to spy Barton, hope to be caught out by him, to finally be _seen_. If anyone could've done it, it would've been him. Romanoff only knew because Ghost had made sure she hadn't been as careful around her – just in case the message got passed along to Barton. Instead it seemed that Romanoff had taken to being Clint's personal guard, shielding him from her gaze just in case Loki was still fiddling around in his mind. She knew that if Clint was deemed a threat he'd be taken prisoner by SHIELD and she wouldn't let that happen. In all truth, there truly was red on her ledger and whilst Loki had been right, she couldn't wipe out all of it – not even a small portion – she could do right by Clint.

Ghost stopped suddenly as she reached the vent that she needed – the one in his room, too small for a SHIELD man to fit through and passed right by the mainframe of the building. Quickly she felt for the tiny drive in her pocket just in case and slipped through the opening, noting Barton's eyes trained on her from where he lay on the bed as she shimmied and shook in to the small gap. No, focus Ghost. Focus. No noticing of anything other than the job at hand. Finally, with her mind on the job, she performed the simple task of installing the tiny drive and left it to do whatever SHIELD's tech team had designed it for.

Returning to Clint's room she settled down beside him. He barely reacted, now used to suddenly feeling her presence. Her brow knitted together briefly. Well now she'd have to find a new way to surprise him, "Stark will probably burst in here you know. Once he realises."

"Well." A lazy smirk flowed over his face, "you should probably become 'India' again." Clint had meant that as a joke, he could deal with Stark pretty easily. Just a few evasive manoeuvres- the rustle of clothes brought him out of his reverie and a sudden weight straddling his thighs. Without warning Ghost had gone in to full blown 'India' mode and was easing his own top off with a passive face. Slowly, slowly Ghost eased him back on to the bed. His blue eyes were wide but somehow his hands had found themselves around her waist.

_1-2 to Ghost._

Not one to be outdone Clint sat up, one arm now wrapped around her waist. With narrowed eyes Ghost allowed this to happen before she let out a shrill squeak. Barton had twisted them around so that he was on hovering above her and the situation looked even more compromising, which is exactly what they wanted of course. As if on cue the door slid open and half of Tony Stark's face peered through the crack. Satisfied with the strewn clothes, devilish smirk and heavy breathing he left, wondering how the hell SHIELD had infiltrated him.

_Two all_.


	5. All is Over

_I have to thank you all for your patience! My laptop broke and I lost everything! I've been slowly rewriting all of my other things and have finally gotten around to this one!_

_So sorry!  
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* * *

Two months later, the game was won. Five-three to Ghost and it was hardly a surprising result. Clint still wasn't entirely sure how it had happened but he was fairly sure that was the point. There was this one time when she had literally appeared like a jack-in-the-box in front of his face. Luckily there was no one there to see him automatically grab her by the throat and pin her to the floor.

"Clint! It's me!" She had squealed in fright, staring at him with her wide, grey eyes. It had taken him a few moments to come out of his instinctive reaction. Blinking he slowly let go of her, rocking back on to the balls of his feet. There she lay, panting slightly heavily from the shock of being rather suddenly laid out on the floor, "I'm sorry about that..."

He just nodded in response. A small five was drawn on to his arm. He glanced down to see that she had twisted on to her side and was peering up at him with a triumphant smile.

"You win."

And just like that it was over. Now he was unsure to what was going to happen and was bordering on desperation to find a way to talk to her again. Clint didn't think he'd ever been so distracted apart from maybe the burgeoning stages of him and Natasha. Ghost had yet to come and claim her prize of a question. He'd remained firmly in his nest hoping that she'd find him there but two months had passed and she was a no show.

It was here that Fury discovered him and stood in his usual strong stance of hands on hips and legs shoulder width apart. This was Fury's business pose, "Agent Barton, you're needed."

"Who with?" It didn't really matter _where _as he and his partner never got to actually see the country they were deployed too. Days off whilst on a mission usually consisted of staring in to a double bourbon in a faceless bar.

"Agent Romanoff and Agent Secretan."

Clint's head shot up from where he'd been readying his quiver, kitted out with custom Stark Industries arrows of course. That name literally had Ghost written all over it. It couldn't be? That name was too... _convenient. _Also, she was II and Clint was obviously reading too much in to everything.

However, reaching the head of the Helicarrier, Clint blinked. Standing by Natasha, who looked resplendent in her stock SHIELD uniform, was Ghost herself. Well now, wasn't that... almost expected. Somehow Clint wasn't surprised. In fact, it explained the absences and lack of contact she'd had with other II. Yes, he'd been checking around. Juan had been particularly helpful. Surprisingly, nothing much had changed about her apart from the new uniform. She still held herself as if she were to fade away to nothing at the slightest inclination which, of course, was probably true. Upon seeing him she smiled apologetically as if this was her fault somehow.

"This is Agent Secretan, I believe you've met before." Fury almost sounded amused. _Almost._ The pair said nothing but stepped forward and shook each other's hands, "this is her first mission outside of base. The nature of the assignment is in the files you will find uploaded to your phones. You leave in two days. Romanoff, Barton... prepare her as best you can." With a curt nod, he dismissed them and the three left the room as quickly as they'd arrived.

"Well... this is interesting Miss _Secretan_. Your name literally has the word secret in it." It probably wasn't the wittiest opening line for someone who hadn't been trying to get someone's attention for the last two months but it was okay. It raised a tiny smile at least. She nodded, casting her eyes towards Natasha who was staring dead ahead. Had she not been surrounded by agents her eavesdropping would've gone on unnoticed.

"I guess I was a born agent."

"And here you are. No longer internal." Clint held the door after Natasha had walked through, allowing Ghost to brush past him. This was getting slightly insane. Clint decided that it was just the burning curiosity he felt. Ghost was a rarity for him and he relished the unwrapping of the mystery. The three entered the mess hall and took up a table, getting out their phones automatically.

"Nope, still internal. I just have the skills required for the mission whilst Juan is busy. And the gender..."

The assignment was simple. It was in Colombia, where a lavish party was being held in honour of some crime lord that thought he was free. But no, he was always under surveillance; they just let him be until he overstepped boundaries or started doing international dealings. So far he'd kept himself restrained to Colombia. Except now he had stumbled upon some information that SHIELD wanted and was keeping it superbly hidden. On this team there needed to be an assassin, a distraction and a thief. The roles were clear; Natasha would make the kill, Clint would be the distraction and Secretan was the thief, moving through the insides of the building like a fish through water. However, Barton had to attend the ball with two women on his arm. It wasn't going to be a tiresome assignment at all.

"Yes. I've met Juan." Ghost raised an eyebrow in an amused way,

"I bet that was an interesting meeting for you." Although her eyes were firmly focussed on the phone in front of her Clint spotted the smirk that had passed her face briefly.

"He was _more_ than helpful. So where have you been this past months?" The mission was so straight forward for Clint and Natasha that they needn't spend too much time on it so Clint leant back in his seat, spreading out as he relaxed. Natasha made herself scarce without speaking, knowing she wouldn't get much in the way of conversation from these two.

"Training. I wasn't going in to the field without another skill-set." She was still quiet, the training that brought her out of her shell. With that type of power, the ability to overpower any man or woman, usually comes a certain confidence, simmering underneath at least.

"You still haven't asked me your question. You won fair and square."

There was a slight hesitation, as if she hadn't expected him to remember. Something told him she was just happy to have won and be noticed, "well... you and Natasha. Is there something between you now? I know you're curious about me and I'm wondering if that should feel wrong or not."

Clint blinked again. Well the surprises just keep on coming don't they? He didn't know what he was surprised at though; the straightforward deliverance of the question, that she knew how curious he was and that she'd asked a personal question.

"Everyone knows we were together for a time but we're good friends now. Close of course. Was that it?" She nodded with a slight blush and dipped her head back to her phone, "new plan." Clint leant forward and smacked his hands lightly on the table, "when we complete this mission, a new game of my design with secrets as the prize. I want your name."

"You really do. Very well, if we complete this assignment and you do your duty in protecting me, you shall receive my name."


	6. A Mission of Relative Importance

_I had hoped to update this quickly buuuut so much has been happening. My soon-to-exist nephew is popping out soon and we've all been painting the nursery and suchlike! So very exciting!_

_But here are the thank you's on a much more serious note :)_

_**lucky7steph (so glad you're still here!)  
kazd (might be a bit anticlimactic for you ;)  
SugarMuffin08  
Cavazza (I don't have a new laptop :( I just downloaded Open Office. Also, more chapters, updated quicker I promise! :)  
Kaiya's Watergarden  
ILoveAnime89  
Keeper-of-the-Cheese (posting as a guest and then leaving your name... worst spy ever ;)  
KITTY LOVES MATTXMELLO (Death Note fan?)  
Destructive Habit (most awesome review ever :)**_

_Thank you all again for not leaving me! I hope you love the first away mission :) :)  
_

* * *

This is definitely not how this mission was supposed to have gone Ghost thought as she sat on the edge of a rather large and ornate four poster bed. The target whose information they so sorely needed was currently 'making himself more comfortable' in the bathroom. This was not how the mission was meant to go at all. With her face tightly composed she picked herself up off of the bed and walked over to the many art pieces decorating the walls. What was it about crime lords that they all seemed to have an out-of-character appreciation for art? She took a tiny, silly moment to appreciate and curse the dress that SHIELD had provided her with. Ghost believed that this dress was the main reason that she had caught the eye of the target, all swishy and feminine and totally unlike any of other the dresses. Somehow, in her demure dress, Ghost had stood out which was something she was definitely not used to. Everyone else seemed overexposed and raw in comparison, even Natasha who had actively dressed to attract attention.

There was a tiny knock on the window and the woman in question was standing on the balcony, waiting to be let in. Hurrying over, she opened the window and Natasha slipped in. The red head silently began to fill the room with all kinds of weapons she could use to kill the crime lord as the task was still hers. Just as Natasha was slipping a discrete gun, if such a thing existed, under the pillow, the bathroom door opened. In a swift move, Natasha climbed on to the bed and sprawled over it.

"Well, what have we here?" This man was so slimy and disgusting, it made Ghost's skin crawl. However she merely forced a seductive smile and motioned to the bed where Natasha patted the space beside her.

"Didn't you hear the door? My friend wishes to join in, I told her that'd be okay." Ghost swayed up to the crime lord, whose name she kept forgetting, and draped herself over his shoulder making sure to press herself in to him. His chubby, greasy hands gripped her waist and pulled her closer if that was even possible, "is it okay?" She pouted, cursing behind the façade that this unfortunately sounded _exactly_ like it was. But since Natasha was here maybe she would make the kill as that was actually her job here. Surely Ghost had provided enough distraction? How did they even get here?

That wasn't even really a question, she knew exactly how they had gotten here.

* * *

All of them were flying commercially, their covers starting almost as soon as they had left SHIELD HQ. Their covers being that Clint was an internationally renowned art fencer who dealt mostly in stolen art. Luckily the person he was imitating was notoriously hermetical and in SHIELD's grasp. Natasha was Lila, his assistant and Ghost was his bored wife – disinterested in everything apart from art so that it wasn't odd when slipped away in to one of the many galleries to get to the centre of the building. They flew first class from New York where some of the other guests were also flying from. Ghost had spent most of the time staring out of the window until Clint had squeezed her hand.

"Look darling, this is James Hough – a _dealer_ from London." And by that subtle inflection on the word 'dealer' he meant, spy from a British organization, also after the same information. Ghost plastered on a small smile and extended her hand, already decorated by elegant jewellery.

"Pleasure, Mr Hough." And then turned back to the window, seemingly unimpressed by everything around her. But she was, Ghost had only ever been on military aircraft that lacked windows of any persuasion. So now, feeling above everything and seeing the clouds completely entranced her. Not enough that she didn't realise Clint never let go of her hand until they landed.

Once they had landed, they'd been given a car by the hotel they were staying in, best in the city. SHIELD had spared no expense although Ghost knew that this expense would merely be forgotten coppers at the bottom of their wallets. Instantly it was business. They went over and over the assignment until all of them knew it by heart. Once that had been achieved, everything was finalised and both Clint and Natasha had given their reassurances to Ghost, Clint by way of a kiss on the cheek (he was definitely getting bolder), Clint had moved downstairs all suited up. He had to mingle with some of the party's future guests who were also staying at this hotel. Natasha and Ghost joined him later, dressed in their SHIELD bought dresses. Whoever had picked them out clearly had intimate knowledge of the pair, both seemed made purely for them.

Then, after the laborious mingling and mindless chatter, the party limousines arrived and the mission was on. That was until the man of the hour had arrived and, just as Ghost was about to slip away, he seemed to pounce on her, leering at her through his glasses, decorated with pure diamonds he pointed out immediately. Not knowing what to do, she cast a worried glance over at Clint who's eyes narrowed angrily at the man.

"Ah yes, your husband. Do not worry," the man smacked his lips together and Ghost felt hers respond by curling in disgust, "he will not mind me talking to the most beautiful girl in the room. What an... interesting outfit you have on my dear." A tanned, chubby finger traced a line up from her bracelet to her shoulder, leaving a trail of misinterpreted goosebumps, "it's so... mysterious. Like unwrapping something." The heavy innuendo as his fingers fiddled with the material of her dress made her grimace and mentally call for Clint who obliged.

"Sweetheart, I see you've met our wonderful host. Sir, I work for John." Clint said as he slipped a possessive arm around Ghost's waist. That was the famous code of this particular art fencer which should have caught their host's attention. However his attention was fixed firmly at the small amount of cleavage on show in front of him. He leaned over and whispered in Clint's ear. His face hardened but he gave a small smile and a curt nod before whisking Ghost away and summoning Natasha.

"The plan's changed. He has his eyes on Secretan. Natasha, you still make the kill. I'll get the information and Secretan, you be the distraction... I'm sorry." He added as a small afterthought, knowing how disgusting this was going to be for her.

* * *

Right now that seemed to be an understatement. The man dragged her over to the bed grinning lasciviously and incessantly pawing at her. Ghost could feel Natasha's surprise at her composed acting. The seductive smile had become a fixed component on her face, if it dropped for a moment then everything would be ruined. She held herself loose, letting her eyes slip over to Natasha for a moment who had reached for a small syringe, hidden expertly. So Ghost stood, allowing the man to slip a hand through the strap of her dress as Natasha's hands crawled slowly up the man's sides, syringe tucked behind her ear. When Clint slipped in through the door clutching the require information, his eyebrows rose to see such a sight. Hands everywhere, Ghost's shoulder bare and a syringe hovering dangerously close to the man's ear.

"Who-" was all the man could get out before Natasha unceremoniously stabbed him with the needle. Ghost never would ask what was in that needle, all she knew was that the man with her hand down her dress died slowly, ripping the dress down the front with his seeming inability to remove the offending hand.

"Great timing Nat." Clint muttered although he wasn't quite sure if it was in sarcasm or thankfulness. They all stood for a moment, not quite sure how to proceed and Clint couldn't take his eyes off where the dress had ripped... It was Natasha who drove everyone in to action by automatically fetching every weapon she had brought and shoved them back in to the bag she'd left on the balcony. Without a word Clint draped his jacket around Ghost and together they moved the man to the bed. For good measure they dropped 'evidence' that a rival crime lord had hired them for the kill (SHIELD hoped a war would erupt and the rivals would somehow wipe each other out).

On the way out, through the abandoned-for-the-party bits of the building, Ghost looked up from the protective arm around her shoulder and whispered in Clint's ear,

"Amy."

* * *

**_Next time on The Haunting: _**_A__nother game is afoot with Clint and the newly named Ghost, but the introduction of her new assignment tips the scales of whatever Clint thought he knew about her..._


	7. A New Kind of Tactic

_A quicker update I believe? And this one's quite long, for me anyway :)  
I rather enjoyed this one although I'm pretty sure I cocked up on the end. You'll see ;)_

_Also, I totally didn't introduce a game, I was having so much fun with the other part! Next time!  
_

_A round of thank-yous to the best reviewers ever!_

_**SugarMuffin08  
bookangel1624  
ILoveAnime89  
Musik Drache (concise! I love it ;)  
Destructive Habit (I don't really have a base for her - that's part of her fun for me, I'm sure your imagining is wonderful aaaand I am literally doing everything in my power to keep you reviewing :) you're awesome!)  
ShayChis  
Kaiya's Watergarden  
Lift the Wings (riverdance?)  
Keeper-of-the-Cheese (well shadow in the night, you've done it again ;) might use that Clint idea... be fun haha)**_

I have an overwhelming love for all of you, especially the ones who have been here from the beginning!  


* * *

What was she doing? What on earth was going on? Clint had come to a complete stop in the middle of the mess hall. There Ghost – Amy, he mentally corrected himself – was, proud as day and large as life. Her hand was running up and down a man's arm, a man with a horribly familiar face. She tossed her hair, let free from the usual bun, and giggled almost obnoxiously at whatever the man had said. Clint's felt somehow like all of his stomach acids were burning him up. It was a strange emotion that he knew straight away.

_Jealousy. _

Ever since joining SHIELD jealousy had become a stranger because what was the point? Practically everyone was the same and anyone higher than him performed jobs that he wasn't qualified to do. But this was a different type of jealousy, this was jealousy for the man, who had suddenly garnered an enemy without trying, Amy was suddenly paying so much attention to. Clint let out an angry snort from his noise, folded his arms and leaned against the door to try and assimilate the scene in front of him.

Suddenly Amy looked over, her grey eyes catching his with a jaunty smile. Then she winked. She _winked._ Confusion swelled up inside him. What was going on! Amy just wasn't acting herself. And then it hit him like a hopeful ton of bricks. She was investigating someone, right? _Right?_ That had to be it. What other reason would she have to flirt? Clint knew she was a good actress after all and this could all be part of the plan. With something akin to a heavy stone on acidic fire settling deep in the pit of his stomach Clint turned on his heel and left, forgetting what he came in for.

Amy sighed quietly to herself. She could understand Clint's confusion and was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to abandon her post to try to give an explanation. It was rather simple. One of the British agents, the James Hough that they'd met on the way to Colombia, had been given to SHIELD. And by given they meant that Hough had wanted to move over to them and the British division had acquiesced. And of course Amy had been called on to investigate the man. Protocol and all.

Everything had been going smoothly. She'd been tailing him for about two days until she realised that he spent vast amounts of time in his room. Now as a rule SHIELD respected the privacy of its agents allowing only the smallest of ventilation systems, not big enough for anyone to fit in to and it was on the floor, which didn't afford the best views. When she had reported this book her new mission was to get inside the room and explore it. She'd tried a couple of times, unsuccessfully to pickpocket his tag. The guy was slick. Finally she decided that to get in to his room needed a more direct approach. So for the past week she'd been trying the 'let's-be-friends' route.

"Hey there!" She had smiled, approaching to sit down next to him and ignoring her friends. It didn't register as unusual as they automatically assumed that it was for a job, "we met on the way to Colombia – remember me?"

James Hough had thrown his head up in shock that someone recognised him and a caddish smirk graced his face, "you got the information." It wasn't a question. He clearly didn't so it could've only been them, Fury had been more than pleased at how Amy had handled herself when the mission changed suddenly. Then Hough suddenly dragged his twinkling eyes up and down her body, "is _that_ how you got it?" Amy sighed in response. Clearly the 'friends' route wasn't going to work out. Then she plastered a smile on her face and wondered whether she could rewind. Could she just go back to the simple days of 'researching' Barton? When he didn't know who she was and she could watch him without much interruption. Not that she didn't love the fact that they had so much contact now. In fact, she especially loved the fact that he was insatiably curious about her but everything was so much simpler before.

But instead of dwelling on the past Amy cleared her head to concentrate on the job at hand. That had led to her placing a hand on his shoulder and running it down his arm as she sat.

"Well I think you might have to specify on _that_." Her tone took on an 'India' tone, as she called it. He muttered something in response, only a little surprised but nonetheless smug. Despite not hearing what was said she'd tossed her hair and giggled coquettishly. And that's when she had felt it. A searing gaze upon her – Clint Barton. The person she was always thinking of at times like this. There was anger etched on to his face. Amy didn't know what to do but had to remain in character so she sent a wink his way. A wink? What was she _thinking_? And then there was confusion and he stalked off.

But back to the job in hand where James Hough, all six foot, green-eyed and brunette of him, was demanding her attention, asking for a date later. She blinked in shock, "wow. Are all you Brits this straight-talking or is it just you?"

"Just me babe." Ugh. Babe. There was something about that word that just irritated her, "so what about it?"

"Well sure." She grinned as if all of her dreams had come true, "you're going to need a tour right?" Her hand slowly reached across the table to grab one of the cherries that he'd piled on his plate. Making sure he watched, otherwise her point would never come across really, she wrapped her tongue around it and pulled it in to her mouth, "I was thinking though... you might want to give me a different kind of tour later." Poor Hough hadn't known what'd hit him. He swallowed heavily, eyes fixed on her mouth, and nodded enthusiastically, "great!" With a laugh Amy rose up, "back here at 8? Hardly anyone's here then." She practically ran out of there. She had to get to Clint, to explain or _something_. She didn't know what. It wasn't as if he really needed her explanations but she wanted to give them anyway.

Predictably Clint was sulking up on high, angrily glaring at Eric Selvig who had been placed under his charge again. The poor scientist hadn't done anything to him. In fact, since the Tesseract, the two had developed a rapport based on mutual experience. Eric was just in his available eyeline.

"Clint." A soft whisper in his ear and a hesitant hand on his shoulder announced Ghost's arrival. He may have her name but she would always be Ghost to him.

"Amy." His response was terse but he allowed himself to be taken by the hand and dragged from the possible prying eyes of the scientists. How he would explain his standoffishness he didn't know but for now he just wanted his childish sulking to continue. At least Amy had allowed him to back her in to a corner where there was no where to run to.

"I see you saw my new job. You're confused as to why I'm not hiding in the shadows like normal. I just wanted to explain that that tactic didn't really work out. I have to get in to his room because he spends all of his time there."

"So you decided to seduce him?" Clint raised a disbelieving eyebrow. It was so far from her usual tricks that it was hard to understand. A horrifying thought crossed his mind. What if she had picked that option because she'd _wanted_ to pick that option? Was Amy even like that? He didn't know her when it came to matter of love or lust, much to disappointment admittedly.

"It wasn't my first option." A non-committal shrug. Suddenly her flippancy and grey eyes annoyed the hell out of him. So she could just pick up and drop the act. And here he'd been fooling himself that his experience with her 'India' character was because she'd wanted to flirt with _him, _at least in part_._

"Well why are you telling me? I don't need to know. I mean, it's not like I have claim over your-" His bitter and churlish was cut off suddenly by Amy grasping his neck and dragging his face down to hers. For a moment he didn't respond to the soft lips until they began to draw away, "no." And his lips were back on hers, an arm around her waist and a hand on her cheek. Both of their imaginings didn't really do each other justice although they'd guessed each other correctly. Amy was hesitant despite the strong start. Pressing herself in to him desperately was a wonderful addition however. Clint was strong and in control, which was exactly how Amy liked it because her knees might just buckle, clichéd as that was.

"Well that was... uncharacteristic." Clint said when they'd pulled away. He hadn't moved his face away so that she could feel the heat from his irregular breath. Those wonderful eyes never moved from her lips either and he licked his own. On another impulse she gripped some of his shirt and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

"What can I say? You bring it out in me somehow." It was true. He always had, even when she was just watching him. She'd wanted to be noticed by him, suddenly discontent with being invisible. And now she wanted to be kissed by him, again and again and again.

"So long as no one else does."

* * *

_**Next time on The Haunting:** Clint's jealous, Amy's losing and Fury is... furious.  
_


	8. Date Interrupted

_It's a bit shorter than usual but my apologies because I've been writing this at four in the morning! The plot bunny would **not** leave me alone! :D_  
_But here are the thank you's!_

_**miller330 (I loved the following idea so credit to you. The control thing is something to look in to ;) thank you)  
ILoveAnime89  
(welcome to the fold. Glad you're enjoying :)  
Destructive Habit (I hope you read my message!)  
Kaiya's Watergarden  
Missing A Muse  
Lift the Wings (haha I love riverdance! I saw it live not long ago :)  
kazd  
cloudgirl9**_

_I really should give all the people who've been here so long a prize. Anything you want? Anything you want to see?_

_Also, warning - I fear I wrote this chapter with slightly sexual overtones... happy happenstance or not?_

* * *

There was no way in hell Clint could ever be considered for II. He and Natasha sat in the mess hall pretending to eat dinner when almost everyone, apart from the impossibly dense James Hough, knew he was just there to stare at the date. If the glares weren't the tell than the angry mutters to Natasha were. The red head just rolled her eyes. That's what Amy thought she did anyway. She couldn't tell from her view point, half an eye on Hough and the other on Clint.

They had literally spent about two hours, pressed against that wall. Well, she says pressed against the wall. At some point, Amy couldn't remember much apart from Clint's lips, hands, heat, they'd slipped down on to the floor. She'd somehow found her way on to his lap and his back against the wall. Now, Amy was fairly controlled and had always been in control throughout most of her relationships. That's how she liked it. The thought of never being in control of a situation made jolts of fear dance on her spine. However, at that moment all control of her vocal chords and memory seemingly abandoned her. It took Clint giving her slight yanks on the hair his hands were entangled in for her to remember about the scientists below them. Finally, they'd pulled away. There was a slight kiss on his cheek as they'd both stood up in silence and when he'd looked back up Amy had disappeared, Ghost once more.

About an hour in to the boring date, although James seemed to be having the time of his life, Clint and Natasha and stalked in to the mess. An hour later, Clint had licked his lips on accident, he'd swallowed and his hands had gripped a can of cola tightly. Maybe sex was on the brain after that afternoon but everything he did had innuendo stamped all over it.

"James." She interrupted him mid-sentence. He glanced up from his food, noting her dilated pupils, and just smiled smugly, "how about I get that tour now."

* * *

Just as Amy's revulsion could not contain itself there was a knock at the door. She released a sigh of relief that she disguised as disappointment. With a regretful smile she attempted to ease herself off of Hough's lap but instead he tightened his grip. Biting down on her lip, she thanked the stars that the move of discomfort could be interpreted. When did this get so difficult? Okay she truly wasn't used to this type of overt operation but it wasn't as if she hadn't done it before. To be fair, before Barton she'd only done it the once, in this type of situation. Then however all she'd felt was numb and it had been easy to play through it. Naturally she hadn't had sex with the bloke but she'd been able to knock him out. After searching through his things, found him clean and setting everything to its proper place she'd woken him up back in the act. She apologised because she'd panicked, said he was getting a little too rough for her. Needless to say that after that the man hadn't wanted to speak to her again.

"Come in." Hough's muffled voice jarred her from her thoughts as his head remained firmly in the crook of her neck. Lucky thing as he only heard Clint slip in. Had he seen the man he'd know a storm was brewing right under the skin. Clint's face was taut but otherwise expressionless. He surveyed the situation, noting the position the two were in, the distress signals warring with the determination to complete the mission on Amy's face and Hough's face exactly where his had been not five hours before. Now Clint _could_ have put put Hough on his back and not left a scratch on him. Clint _could_ have calmly performed that crafty nerve pinch to render him unconscious. Hell, if he'd wanted Clint _could_ have snapped his neck and made it look like an accident.

But no, those things were too subtle. Because Clint was jealous in relationships and everyone knew it. Not that they were in a relationship just yet. One make-out session, no matter how heavy and breathless, did not mean they were there yet. But Clint had no doubt that that's where they heading and that was good enough for him. So instead of doing what he could and should do, he grabbed the slimy Englishman by his shirt, dragged him to standing (making sure Amy slid off his lap and landed unceremoniously on the floor) and punched Hough in the face. Right in one of those offensive, twinkly eyes of his. The unsuspecting man staggered back, clutching at his eye.

"What the hell di-" Just as Hough made to start a brawl with Clint, Amy darted up and did the nerve pinch herself. She quickly muttered a Star Trek quote about the Vulcan Death Grip to herself and Clint, still fuming, somehow managed to tuck that nugget away in his _Ghost List_. Then her grey eyes, as stormy as Clint's face had looked, shot up to his. For a moment he blinked but then shrugged. He wasn't going to apologise for something any red-blooded man would probably like to do. The only difference being was that Clint was much more capable of doing it effectively than other red-blooded males.

"It's going to bruise." Was all he replied with, smiling proudly and using his foot to move Hough's head from side to side.

"Now you've finished playing Tarzan, I'm going to finish my assignment and then we're going to have a _serious_ talk you and I." The tightness of her tone made it clear that she was fuming and later he was certainly going to be in trouble. Although Clint made a bet with himself that he could probably release that rage and turn it in to something equally as passionate. A new game perhaps? No, that would have to happen later. A different game would have to happen, probably something to do with aiming. That was his area of expertise. Strictly business at first although he would make the games would progress over time. As he opened his mouth to announce the new game Amy knelt in front of him and began to strip search the unconscious man.

"I'll do that." He grunted, not eager to see his next girlfriend strip a man that wasn't himself. For a few moments the two busied themselves with the search. Clint searched Hough whilst Amy performed her usual 'incriminating evidence' search. At the same time, they each found something on both his person and in that tiny air vent respectively. A wire for recording equipment strapped to his chest and a list of personnel files of all of the Avengers in the Avengers Initiative, downloaded straight from the database. Now why, oh why did Hough want all of this? He was low level clearance and some of the stuff contained in these files was incredibly high level. There was also a small list with the title of Priority at the top.

The new game would have to wait. The files needed Fury, in more ways than one.


	9. Games With No Winner

_Now I'm not usually one to complain (about reviews anyway, I'm just happy I get some) but did I do something wrong last time? Was it not as enjoyable? If so, tell me and I'll work to improve :D_

_But the thank yous to the people who **did **review!  
_

_**ILoveAnime89  
Keeper-of-the-Cheese (that was it in a nutshell ;) are you sure you don't wanna summarise each chapter for me? haha)  
Guest (yay for anons! Let me love you Guest!)  
Kaiya's Watergarden  
Hawtorn Tree ('aaaah' in a bad way! and welcome!)  
**  
_

* * *

"I want it quick and dirty." Were the first words Amy heard Clint say after the entire James Hough debacle, which had reached an anticlimactic and thoroughly unsatisfying ending. Her face remained passive however and simply curious. Very much like their first meeting. Her guard was back up. They had yet to have their _talk_. It was one thing to be possessive, as many people had suggested he would be. He just seems the type. But it was entirely another to interfere with her assignment. She had a niggling suspicion that had she been a normal agent like Romanoff the whole thing wouldn't have happened.

* * *

The entire assignment had been almost been an entire waste of time anyway, not threatening in any way. James Hough had turned out to be a spy for none other Tony Stark. He'd left the employ of SHIELD, was immediately hired by Stark when he'd put feelers out for some industrial espionage as revenge for sending 'India' in to mess with JARVIS. Finally he'd figured it all out and put SHIELD to the test. The wire and the things they found were to be reported back to Stark who would then flaunt all of the new information in Fury's face. However, Hough had been found out and the consequences were none of Ghost's concern. She always referred to herself as Ghost whenever she was on and thinking about assignments or when she needed to call upon her skills, liking the moniker. She saw it as a separate but extremely important part of her personality.

* * *

"We're going to shoot in the range, and I know you know how to use a gun." Clint continued, oblivious to his audience's internal monologue and flashback. She nodded quickly. Of course she did. She just chose not to use them, too much power in someone's hand. And loud. Nothing like the quiet and focus that she needed, "whoever gets closer to the bull's-eye gets to ask a question _and _have it answered. It ends when we get bored or hungry or both." He added on quickly when she opened to her mouth to point out the obvious loophole. Any problems? She nodded her head, not mentioning that this was quite clearly fixed and the outcome was predictable. But he deserved this after failing so well after the first match. If he could be a gracious loser than she could be too, even if she was a little irritated at him at the moment.

So there they were. Clint with his bow, a smug face and no idea that the woman at his side was annoyed at him. Ghost stood, gun in the usual thigh holster, poised and ready to disappear at a moment's notice. Confrontation was not her forte and she was eager to avoid it when she could but she knew that they would have to talk about it if _they_ continued to where she knew Clint was heading them. Why else would he have been so possessive? And of course, the first point went to Clint. Ghost rolled her eyes. He may be a gracious loser but he was a smug victor.

"First question. Have you been in a relationship before?" Right off the bat, relationship questions. Of course. Ghost nodded her assent. It wasn't in the file he had surely already read; it just listed her as single. Agents had to inform the appropriate admin if that changed, even if it was just a fleeting relationship. If everything were to go Clint's way then that would change pretty quickly. He was a passionate man and felt that life was too short to dance around. However, there was a need to rebel against allowing Clint to get what he wanted inside of Ghost.

"I'm divorced." There was a slight twitch in Clint's cheek but a raised eyebrow quelled any comment that may have arisen. Instead he let out an arrow needlessly fast, missing the bull's eye by inches. Ghost cocked an eyebrow, this time in suppressed surprise and her eyes sparkled. If she could keep him this annoyed maybe he wouldn't win after all. She raised her gun and just beat him by a millimetre. With a smirk she turned to him and said,

"Do you really think what you did was okay?"

"What I did?"

"Interrupting my assignment because your… emotions got in the way. You realise that wasn't acceptable and won't be allowed ever again right?"

Clint's face was blank for a few moments as he blinked at her in surprise. Obviously it had never even crossed his mind. Natasha had pulled Ghost aside for a quiet moment once she'd heard of the interest that Clint held in her and had warned that he got like this. Natasha had learned that he could keep it to himself on very important missions but a lot of the time he would allow it to get in his way. She had also learned that you had to leave him to it unless you wanted very angry, possessive sex as a result. Which didn't sound much like the punishment Natasha's exasperated voice painted it as, apparently biting was involved and that was a secret kink of Amy's. But even if this was not the case she would do all she could to make sure it was kept in check. He may not regard her missions as important but they were her job and he _would_ learn to respect that.

Finally he nodded, "I did think it was okay. It won't happen again." His response was curt. He made to shoot again, less angry this time. They were back on the expected footing. Amy shot and inevitably lost, "when were you married?"

"I was seventeen, young and impressionable. I did it for a bet." He gave her a glance over and found that oddly, it made sense somehow, "we divorced five years later. We were _friends_ Clint and we got on well. It was really enjoyable. It took us five years to realise that wasn't what love was meant to be like." She didn't know why she had to explaining her past choices to him, they were _her _choices but it felt like he needed to know. It felt like it was courtesy to his curiosity. Also, his judgemental stare seemed to compel an explanation out of her mouth even when her mind was yelling at her 'you don't need to explain yourself!' She frowned suddenly, finally listening to what her mind was telling her, "I think these questions are a bad idea Barton. I don't need to explain my past decisions just yet. You just need to know that I made them." Her temper was fraying. How on earth did that happen? One judgemental look from him and that was it. From other people she could handle it but not from him. "What you should be worrying about are my future decisions."

"What does that mean?" Clint lowered his bow and stared at her. He narrowed his eyes quickly as he realised that it could be a threat to _them_. He raised the bow, still staring at her, and shot the arrow. She shot the gun not even caring if it hit the target or not, "fine. How _exactly_ do I make sure we'll… get together?"

"Get in my pants you mean?" She snorted, needlessly harsh, all riled up. She immediately regretted it as soon as she said it but didn't take it back.

"Both. Both is fine."

To her surprised she let out a short bark of laughter and flashed the smile towards him, "Now telling would be playing fair and _we_ aren't a game Barton. We just play them."


	10. Bad, Bad Me for This Evil Me

Alright, sorry to do this :( I hate A/N as chapters so I particularly suck for doing this.

But I'm stopping this story as you may have guessed already. I have just lost all the inspiration for it.

I also have other projects on various other sites happening all at once and I'm _still_ writing a child's story for my new nephew. Who knew it would be so _hard_!?

Anyway, thanks for all the support!

Especially _**Keeper-of-the-Cheese.**_

_**Kaiya's Watergarden.  
**_

_**ILoveAnime89  
**_

_****and of course  
_

_**Destructive Habit**  
_


	11. A Brief Respite

_Ciao from bel'Italia!_

_That's right kiddies, I'm currently studying in Italy but (a massive downside) there's no internet here.  
_

_Which is a shame because I suddenly became inspired for the next bit of the Haunting, a new plot line.  
Who knows when I'll be able to update again though...  
_

_But anyway, I want to thank the previous reviewers for the last real chapter  
especially **Keeper-of-the-Cheese** and **Destructive Habit **because I love you guys so...  
_

_Anyway, hope you enjoy this one!  
_

* * *

Nothing, Amy mused, ever went according to plan when it came to her and Clint. And then he bit down, hands tightening on the inside of her thighs, her eyes rolled in to the back of her head and musing wasn't really an issue any more.

Five months down the line from that final game both options had very much been good, one in particular was _especially_ good. This she could attest to when she emerged from her post coital haze. If she lived in a neo noir movie or if she smoked then a cigarette would almost certainly be in her mouth right now, "you know," she murmured in to Clint's ear as they lay sprawled one atop the other, "that was almost definitely worth a divorce." He growled in to her ear and she laughed shaking them both. With a groan that sounded almost tortured he rolled himself from off of her and sent her a playful glare. Her marriage and most recent unforeseen complications were still a tender spot with him that no amount of possessive marking of her neck could ease, not for a while anyway. As she stretched languorously against Clint's body, hard, scarred and sexy as hell, Amy couldn't help but think that maybe this would be the calm _after_ the storm. Not that the summer had been particularly strenuous in hindsight but the circumstances were. Her and Clint had been through too much stuff to not have deserved some kind of calm. They'd always been playing games for each other and now they could hopefully relax.

"Keep stretching like that and we'll have to conduct another round of 'research'." Clint muttered darkly although she knew he was teasing. Hopefully. She was exhausted and a girl could only take so much. No matter how mind-blowing. Amy had teased him that maybe, after all, she should've just stayed married as her 'research' of him was inconclusive. This had inevitably led Clint in to one of his possessive rages that he couldn't control and she had so much fun inducing, which was how they had ended up in this barn. How they came to be on holiday on a rural Tuscany farm was a completely different story.

A month from their last game another week had to be spent separated between Ghost and the Hawk as Hawkeye had to attend to Avenger matters. She had been expecting that, at some point, his Avengers duty would take him away. What she hadn't been expecting was the fear that she felt at home in her dingy Wyckoff, New Jersey apartment. Clint may live in the dream in Manhattan but not so for underling Amy, although she was extremely proud of the apartment she'd earned on her SHIELD salary. Rarely she spent any time in it, less time when she was in the Helicarrier but now a HQ had been erected near Brooklyn that she could commute to every day.

At first it was a blessing to be back on solid ground, near enough to Clint to make long weekend trips when neither were busy. So they weren't technically 'together' as he'd most eloquently put it but he'd definitely gotten his way with the other thing. It had been gradual, building and building until finally they both had wanted to explode. She'd tried to stave it off, keep him interested. There was this irrational fear deep in her chest that if she became an unwrapped mystery as it were then he would lose interest. But then he'd discovered one of her kinks and it had been all over. Turns out that her fear was unfounded however and quite often she discovered Clint on her roof at 3am because he couldn't stay away. Apparently the man couldn't use a door or a cellphone.

Those first four weeks had been bliss and inspired in them both a lethargy for everything but each other, the information from before not important any more. So what if Amy had been married before? All that Clint cared about was she was with him _now. _Of course it still popped in to his head on occasion. Did she cook for her ex-husband like she did with him? Did she allow him to watch as she danced with unpractised grace around her tiny living room? Did she relish in his attention and quietly admit on dark, spring nights that, with him, she never felt the urge to disappear? He knew he wouldn't feel this way if it were just an ex-boyfriend or even a slew of them. But it wasn't, it was a _husband_. Then it went away again as he discovered something new about her, like how much he loved to watch her do her hair in the mornings, before she pulled a nine to five shift for SHIELD. Many times Clint found himself on the verge of asking, 'does all this co-habitation mean we're dating?' but could never bring himself to do it. They were only a month in to a final mutual agreement, it sounded like they were back in high school and would a label like that change anything?

Amy had felt this too for all of the above reasons and also had never acted upon them. Then watching the Nevada desert become a battlefield for him and the Avengers on the news suddenly made her regret it. Then there was the fear; the cloying, all- encompassing fear for his life. So transfixed by this fear and the television that she didn't know she was crying until she woke up on a wet floor, curled around the remote and the news still on.

Two days later Clint had arrived at her door with a sheepish expression. She'd slapped him in a state of panic. How dare he not even call his panicking girlfriend before leaving or during or even after a life-threatening mission? Did he think he could just show up as if... She'd never gotten past that sentence. Clint, with hungry and ecstatic gaze, had pushed his way inside, picked her up and carried in to the living room. He'd muttered girlfriend in to her neck and proceeded to mark her as thoroughly as he could. It had worked both ways.

Everything had been absolutely perfect from then on out. For about a week.


	12. Testing, Testing

_Woo! A bit faster then I'd thought!_

_Well here are the people I love for reviewing! I'm so happy to see old faces and new ones :D  
_

_**ReflectedNightmare (**thank you for reviewing twice!)  
**Keeper-of-the-Cheese **of course  
**Scarred Skull  
Kaiya's Watergarden**_  
_**DanAlaya  
miller330**_

* * *

There was a silence in the room. Considering the inhabitants this wasn't much of a surprise. Ghost sat blinking owlishly at her boss for a good few minutes and Fury just stared her down.

_Her ex-husband. _

Well not ex husband any more. As it turns out the next mission required for them to still be married. When Ghost had applied for SHIELD everybody in her life had had to be investigated, including the ex husband. They definitely weren't married, SHIELD had made sure and neither was he a threat.

Now SHIELD were telling her different. Her sweet, best friend had somehow become involved in a criminal organisation that had links to Hydra, a company with which Steve Rogers had a long and deeply personal history. SHIELD had been looking for a way in to Hydra's walls for a long time and when they heard that her ex-husband was a new lackey they'd pounced. When Fury had explained this Ghost had cocked an eyebrow and asked why she required to be married for this or why she had to be involved at all? It wasn't an II job and she had no connections with him any more. After their amicable divorce the two friends had gone their separate ways and had not spoken since. Apparently though this organisation, to avoid deflection, in which case the defector would be killed, employed only families. If you were in the organisation you _all_ were and you couldn't get out. No one had been able to escape their clutches yet although many had tried.

It was the perfect organisation for Stephen, her ex-husband whose name she hadn't even thought in years. It was always _ex-husband_. Stephen had no family. When they'd been growing up he'd always been extremely sensitive over his orphan status, especially when children, the cruellest of bullies, had bullied him for having no parent pick up from school. It was always something he'd been searching for. Maybe that was why the marriage had lasted as long as it did. Or even the reason Ghost had even agreed to the bet in the first place. So when an organisation promised to give him this family and safety net if he did a few things for them, he'd probably jumped at the chance.

For someone to infiltrate they'd have to either go in as a family unit, which Ghost was sure Clint would've been happy to fulfil, or as a long-lost family member that they'd have to make involved if they wanted to continue in the group. It would be a solo mission until Clint, who Fury knew would annoy him until he managed to get on the mission, would turn up to throw a spanner in to the works. Fury knew that Clint worked best when he had a focus, someone to protect, which was the only reason Fury allowed his relationships to exist. If he'd found love outside of SHIELD he'd leave the organisation faster than Fury could blink and he didn't want that. Ghost would be the irresponsible female in this entire charade who had married two people and was now escaping the law.

"If you believe this is the best way to continue, I have no objections." Ghost monotoned. Naturally she didn't believe a single word coming out of Fury's mouth, instead believing that all of this was a test to see how well her and Clint worked together as a couple. They'd filled in the papers to ask for a relationship status change on their SHIELD files a few days ago.

"Amy?" A voice that used to be familiar gaped at her. Amy's head shot up from her strategically placed magazine with a look of pre-planned surprise.

"Stephen! Fancy finding you here! I was just about to try and track you down!" Her voice was a perfect mixture of elation at the reunion and distress at the news she bore. Stephen, who liked to think he still understood the way Amy worked even after all these years, immediately picked up on it. If he was honest, which was getting harder and harder nowadays, Stephen was and always had been in love with Amy. When the bet had been issued by their university fans, a bet to think of and do the craziest thing ever, Stephen had immediately said 'Vegas wedding'. Shockingly Amy had said yes! Their friends had said they were crazy and then crazier still when they agreed to stay married. However his dream had ended five years later when he realised that Amy didn't love him but thought that this is what love was, just a happy friendship with sparse dates and dirty weekends.

"What's wrong?" He asked and allowed her to sit him down. It took a few moments for her to gear up to the lie but it made her look nervous rather than conniving. Stephen, he of the green eyes and floppy black hair, leaned across and placed a comforting hand on hers. Suddenly Amy lamented his life choices as he still appeared the same sweet kid she'd known when she was nineteen. They'd married about three months after they'd met. It wasn't something she regretted.

"Oh Stephen! I'm just going to come right out and say it... okay you know how we got divorced around eight years ago?"

"Of course but-"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Amy cried as if she had only just thought of it. A look of panic swept across her face as her hands lunged for him. Stephen shook his head in the negative. Of course he didn't but it was better to not look like she knew everything about him, "oh good. Well it depends on how you look at it... we're still married."

There were a few beats of silence. Stephen just stared at her without a single muscle in his face moving. A few more beats of silence followed. Finally he let out a cracked, "what?"

"I know, I know! God I'm so sorry, it's my fault. I left out like one signature. But the thing is, and this is the real reason I'm trying to track you... I got in deep with a couple of people." She hoped she didn't have to elaborate because she had no idea what she'd say although a joke about Clint was going through her head. Bad time Amy, she shook her head as if to rid herself of the thoughts, "I don't know what to do. You know the system," she was referring to the childcare system. If you knew how it could help you in ways you wouldn't expect. It also helped that Stephen had always had dodgy connections from his orphan days, "hide me in it?"

"Amy, Amy, Amy!" Stephen almost yelled in an effort to keep his 'panicking' _ex-wife-but-not-ex-wife_ calm. She had seen the exact time during her impassioned speech Stephen had resolved to help her with his connections in his criminal organisation, "I'll help you. I know some people but it comes at a price..."

"Anything! Please Stephen!"

She was in.


	13. Tested

_I'm going to start by sending a super-thank you to **ReflectedNightmare** for just being so boss and reviewing all the chapters.  
Genuinely beautiful of you._

_**Kaiya's Watergarden  
DanAlaya **(yeah probably not ;)**  
Keeper-of-the-Cheese** (I mean that in an 'always there for me' kind of way :P just to clear up x)  
**miller330**  
_

_****Hope you like this chapter!  
_

* * *

A month later Amy had fully settled in to the role of herself from eight years ago, not much had changed but she had a different kind of confidence now that she had to disguise. At first the group had been suspicious but Stephen's blind faith in the woman he loves and had decided to not to 'divorce' again had won them over eventually. Stephen had never lied to them before and his instincts were usually correct. Of course Amy presented herself as eager to please and do anything. She'd been given a number of ferrying missions and was also convinced that she'd been a drug mule at some point but SHIELD had kept the cops away. Amy accepted everything without question and stuck very closely to Stephen. She showed initiative when she had to and soon she would be moving up the ranks. As for living arrangements, they'd been placed in a house where the single people lived all together. It was a very... communal arrangement but all had a sense of easy camaraderie and Amy couldn't help but wish Stephen had found this _before_ his entrance in to the underbelly of society.

Her and Stephen were slowly getting back to the way they were before. Well he thought so any way. She wasn't so sure. There was something different about him that she didn't like. Maybe it was the way he turned his cheek to some of the going-ons in the house. Certain people were doing very illegal drugs, some were bringing women back late at night and some were just drinking themselves in to oblivion. Until the morning came and they all shared the same routine. This was bulking up, being 'manly men' and teasing Stephen in a very friendly way. But they were crass and rude especially now there was a woman in the house. They weren't respectful. And despite the fact that Stephen had once kicked a man in the groin for calling his wife 'ugly' right now all he did was smile half-heartedly and say nothing. Sure Amy could look after himself but all she could think of was if Clint was here he'd have held all of them down to allow her better access to their faces. So she could punch them.

But he wasn't here and that would probably ruin everything. He was due to arrive soon though, in a month's time. It all depended on how fast Amy could start climbing the ranks to become the most trusted person there. Her opportunity arose much faster than expected.

Surprisingly all it took was a show of strength, skill and nerves of pure steel. SHIELD had leaked a fake profile on to the internet where Stark knew they would look. Stark and Amy had reached an understanding of 'I'll watch your back if you watch mine and never steal my property again'. SHIELD had allowed it. Now he utilised her sometimes during her down times for his own agenda and in return would personally deal with all of her technological problems, this profile being one of them. It said on her profile that she had defected from SHIELD and was now a mercenary for hire. She'd gotten in deep with some bad clients and her marital status had been conveniently wiped from the profile. It showed her skills in martial arts however and her innate ability to disappear. Naturally they wanted to test the theory to see if she could be much more of an asset than they'd dreamed. She had to pick a target, however many she wanted, and take them down without killing them. They had to be members of the organisation so they didn't have to explain themselves to the public. She chose the entirety of the people she was living with.

After she'd told Stephen to go and grab her lunch she'd gotten to work. It hadn't even taken ten minutes. There were only ten people in the house and none of them were prepared. It had been extremely satisfying and she knew Clint would've been proud. Stephen had returned to find her reading a magazine, sprawled on the sofa, the house eerily silent. Not five minutes later a faceless contact with the top of the chain was at their door telling them to come with him.

They moved out of the house where ten men now lay unconscious and were then settled in to a large one-bedroomed apartment, in the same building as other top dogs. To Stephen it was a dream come true and he couldn't hide his excitement. He ignored whatever had happened in the house as some crazy coincidence and it kind of made Amy's heart hurt. This wasn't what he was like, not questioning anything and ignoring things he shouldn't. He was very far gone. Amy had thought she could pull him out of this but maybe it was too late.

It had taken two more jobs and then a final mission to become fully trusted by the top dog. In between all of this Stephen had been attempting to woo her. They'd gone to very up-scale restaurants even though Amy always had been more of a takeaway and sofa type of girl. They'd gone book shopping which had actually been pretty fun. They'd even gone to Coney Island for a day. She'd had to accept all of this even though she thought of Clint many times throughout. Her constant thoughts of him just confirmed how far gone emotionally she was for the Avenger. She'd started to do what she always did and try to battle her emotion with logic to help herself run away from it. It was an instinctive fright thing she did and had ended many a relationship.

However the final mission had stopped her thoughts in their tracks. Invade Stark's personal home. Well this was easy. She basically just walked in in the dead of night, pretending to creep in, and told Stark all about the situation. She had to get a piece of technology, preferably a small prototype as evidence. Tony immediately handed her a defunct project with Stark Industries proudly stamped on the side. For it to look in any way realistic however Amy chose to stay at least two hours playing with the the many electricals in the common room.

Then Clint had walked in just before she was about to leave. For some reason it had been awkward. Amy had no idea what to say as she'd never gotten to apologise for Fury. What could she say anyway? 'Oh hey, sorry I have to go back to my ex-husband, be married to him for a bit and I didn't tell you anything about it. But we're cool right?' Instead she just said,

"I have to go." Smooth Amy, real smooth. Just go kick yourself up the ass afterwards yeah? Clint didn't say anything but took a step forward and grabbed her by the upper arms. He merely leaned forward and kissed her shortly and sweetly, nodding afterwards. Then left the room knowing that she'd gotten the message. It was all okay and it would all be okay in the end.

She would be seeing him soon.


End file.
